Tara
Tara “Trauma” Herald *'''Career:''' Guardsman *'''Career Rank:''' Armsman (3) *'''Homeworld:''' Messidia? Hermit? (Imperial World) Description Easily mistaken for an adolescent girl, this young woman looks to be in the process of recovering from either starvation or malnutrition, perhaps both. She is clearly a few centimeters short of her optimal height, and several kilos underweight, still on the road to recovery from whatever condition had wasted her body away. Despite this she's cute, almost pixie-like, with rich brown hair and honey-hued eyes, and pearly white teeth. The Imperial Aquila is tattooed upon her left shoulder. She is usually found wearing a common Imperial Guard flak-BDU, in popular drab green, 112 stamped on the left shoulder in white paint. In several places the uniform has been cinched down with tape, indicating that it is a touch too big for her, and holes have been patched with stamped scales of metal or a torn swatch of kevlar. When geared-up for combat operations, she is almost lost in the straps of the poly-fiber webbing wrapped around her, and the equipment it holds. This includes no less than three long-arms, two sidearms, three grenades, and over a dozen magazines of ammunition, in addition to standard infantry tools like her entrenching spade, ration-packs, and various support kits, all showing signs of wear. Always hanging from a chain around her neck are her dog tags, and a single bullet. When not expecting combat, she is typically found in a tank-top, BDU pants, and combat boots, and she is never without at least one of her sidearms and her combat knife. Background They call her Trauma. She doesn't know why. Maybe something happened, something in her youth, something she no longer remembers? Best not to dwell on it, that's what Commissar Silva says. Anyway, its not a bad nickname. A warchild from Hermit could do worse. She never did learn what Hermit was before it became the mess she grew up in, maybe a shrine-world? Whatever, since before she was born it'd been a designated planet-wide war-zone. She knows her parents served in the Imperial Guard, just like she does, but she doesn't know much more than that. Herald isn't exactly an uncommon surname. Childhood wasn't easy, she recalls, as the Messidian 112th (where the frack is Messidia, anyhow?) didn't have much in the way of a Schola Militant, which suggests that they didn't expect to be stuck on Hermit as long as they have. Most of her early life is a blur, dominated by constant hunger and a will to survive. She lived by scavenging, mostly of quiet battlefields, those places where others would dare not tread, risking death or capture at the hands of the heretics that the Guard was here to fight. Countless times she actually encountered them, forced to evade, outrun, or sometimes defend herself from enemy patrols. But more often than not, she came from such dark, corpse-ridden places with something of value. A can of reprocessed nutrient extract was worth its weight in gold, or even more if it hadn't been opened. The constant war on Hermit was long ago classed a low-level conflict, and since then, Munitorum resupply has been... inconsistent. It became a constant fight to maintain vehicles and weapons, to keep soldiers supplied with ammunition and the tools of war, but scarcest of all was rations. The best food went to the officers, the most food went to the soldiers fighting on the front-line. Everyone else starved, or did what they could to scrape together enough calories to make it through another day. Gambling and theft became common, while those with “trade skills” found other ways to provide, such as the artillery batteries, which bargained a meal or two in exchange for shelling a target. For luckless children like Trauma, her only hope was scavenging, even stealing, whatever she could find. Trauma had killed for a single meal before she'd reached ten years of age. Her talent for scavenging useful and valuable materials, and her daring and skill at entering dangerous environments to retrieve them, brought her to the attention of one of the Messidian's beleaguered Munitorum Quartermasters, Lieutenant Armstrong. Trauma can't remember when she started working for the Lieutenant, when he'd draped a flak-jacket over her shoulders and pressed a laspistol into her hands, but she can't imagine what came before must've been very important. They called her a Munitorum “Picker,” or less charitably a “Vulture,” and she knew she was doing her part for the war-effort, though that was not nearly as important as the occasional meal or trinket with which the Lieutenant rewarded her. Her job was essentially to do as she did before, to scavenge whatever she could. But now, instead of leaving aside things she herself had no use for personally, or squirreling valuable finds away in hidden places, she'd present any useable materials to the Lieutenant. From weapons and armor to things that shone in the pale sunlight or glittered as if loudly proclaiming their worth. She'd scour the ruins and the battlefields, collecting functioning lasguns and unexploded grenades, huge bag-fulls of dog-tags, rings and necklaces, even showing the way to salvageable vehicles. Many other of the Lieutenant's Pickers went off scavenging and never returned. Sometimes a group of them would band together to brave an especially dangerous battlefield, or tackle an enemy patrol sitting on a choice find, but they never bonded, each knowing exactly how short their lives could be. As she grew to adulthood, it was not uncommon for Trauma and other Pickers to be called-in to reinforce a squad that had taken casualties, or scout out enemy territory prior to a battle. Though their primary role with the Munitorum did not change, when a mission needed an extra set of hands, one or more of them would be pressed to the task. It was in this spirit that Lieutenant Armstrong announced to his Pickers, the young children, the adolescents, and the few adults, that the Emperor had bestowed a great boon upon them and the Messidian 112th. They would be leaving Hermit in a massive star-faring warship, bound for distant battlefields across the stars, taking the fight right to the heart of the enemy. Trauma did not understand this at first, basic survival and occasional warfare on Hermit had been her entire life, but she didn't dare argue with the aging Lieutenant. Nor did she realize until much later that the Messidian 112th had just been seconded into service by the agents of the Inquisition. For her part, Trauma was just happy, more like ecstatic, to be fed regularly. Three meals a day was a feast fit for a king, in her eyes. Indeed, at first the ship's medics were forced to restrict her diet, and monitor her body closely as she was walked back from the brink of starvation. Under strict orders, she ate according to a careful nutrition plan, ordered to brief periods of exercise and combat-drill before long periods of physician-prescribed rest. But this road to recovery was littered with potholes, as Trauma deployed with the Messidian 112th to combat the Emperor's foes. Often she hardly knew where she was or whom she was fighting, though she supposed heretics and mutants mostly, and the battlefields changed frequently as the voidship carried them between the stars. Lieutenant Armstrong was rarely deployed himself, a non-combatant, and Trauma was instead attached to a regular infantry squad. There, after a period of introduction and shyness, she finally found the strength of human social bonds. She learned from these soldiers the lessons of combat that her picking had never demanded of her; how to breach into a room, how to provide covering fire while one person moves and then following them while they cover you, to keep your attention on your sector and trust another to tend to their own. She was becoming a regular Imperial Guardsman, complete with dark wit and grim smile, but that was not to last. [RECORDS DELETED] She awoke to strangers, a small group of men and women that looked as though they'd been gathered up, all from different world across the stars, and thrown together. They wore simple, blank uniforms, of a kind she'd never seen before. Some wore heavy armor where others wore lighter protection, they carried weapons, from sidearms to heavy stubbers. All possessed the grim, weathered look she'd seen in the Messidian remnants squads and veterans, people who'd been to hell and back relying only on each other. Their leader introduced himself as Interrogator Michael Vanderson. He called her by her nickname, Trauma. He told her that he was her new commanding officer. "You are working for the Inquisition now. You will go where we tell you, you will do what we tell you, and you will kill when we tell you." To which she replied, "... Wasn't I already doing that?" Characteristics *'''Weapon Skill:''' 33 *'''Ballistic Skill:''' 33 *'''Strength:''' 35 *'''Toughness:''' 35 *'''Agility:''' 37 *'''Intelligence:''' 30 *'''Perception:''' 34 *'''Willpower:''' 41 *'''Fellowship:''' 33 *'''Wounds:''' 14/14 *'''Fate Points:''' 4/4 *'''Insanity Points:''' 0 *'''Corruption Points:''' 2 Skills *Awareness (Per) *Ciphers (War Cant) (Int) *Dodge (Ag) *Drive (Ground Vehicle) (Ag) *Speak Language (Low Gothic) (Int) *Swim (S) *Trade (Armorer) (S) Talents *'''Jaded:''' Never gain Insanity Points from mundane horrors (blood, violence, etc). *'''Sound Constitution (1):''' One extra Wound for each purchase. *'''Quick Draw:''' Ready is a Free Action. *'''Weapons Training, Basic:''' Las, Solid Projectile. *'''Weapons Training, Melee:''' Primitive. *'''Weapons Training, Pistol:''' Las, Solid Projectile. Gear *'''Autogun:''' Weighs 3.5 kg. **Damage 1d10+3 Impact, Penetration 0, Range 90m, RoF S/3/10, Clip 30, Reload Full. **Magazines: 6 *'''Lasgun:''' Weighs 4 kg. **Damage 1d10+3 Energy, Penetration 0, Range 100m, RoF S/3/-, Clip 60, Reload Full, Reliable. **Charge Packs: 1 *'''Shotgun, Pump-Action:''' Weighs 5 kg. **Damage 1d10+4 Impact, Penetration 0, Range 30m, RoF S/-/-, Clip 8, Reload Full, Scatter. **Shells: 12 *'''Autopistol:''' Weighs 2.5 kg. **Damage 1d10+2 Impact, Penetration 0, Range 30m, RoF S/-/6, Clip 18, Reload Full. **Magazines: 10 *'''Las Pistol:''' Weighs 1.5 kg. **Damage 1d10+2 Energy, Penetration 0, Range 30m, RoF S/-/-, Clip 30, Reload Full, Reliable. **Charge Packs: 1 *'''Grenades, Frag:''' Weighs 0.5 kg each. **Damage 2d10 Explosive, Penetration 0, Range SBx3, Blast 4. **Quantity: 3 *'''Axe:''' Mono. Weighs 4 kg. **Damage 1d10+1 Rending, Penetration 2, Unbalanced. *'''Combat Knife:''' May be affixed as a bayonet. Mono. Weighs 0.5 kg. **Damage 1d5+3 Rending, Penetration 2. When used as a bayonet, Damage is 1d10. *'''Guard Flak Armor:''' Weighs 11 kg. **All Locations: Armor 4. (Armor 5 against Blasts.) *'''9-70 Entrenching Tool:''' Weighs 2 kg. *'''Charm:''' A standard autogun bullet with Trauma's full name etched around its nose, hanging from a simple chain around her neck. *'''Chrono:''' A simple, mass-produced wrist-worn digital timepiece. Press a button and it glows in the dark! *'''Clip/Drop Harness:''' Weighs 2 kg. **+30 to Climb Tests when descending a vertical surface, and cannot fall if Test is failed. *'''Clothing, Uniform:''' *'''Consumables:''' One week's worth of Corpse Starch Rations. One packet of Lho-sticks and a few packets of instant-Recaf. *'''Dog Tags:''' *'''Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer.''' *'''Infantry Lamp Pack:''' Provides illumination for up to 1d5+5 hours at a time. Weighs 0.5 kg. *'''Mess Kit & Personal Grooming Kit:''' Weighs 0.6 kg. *'''Micro-Bead:''' *'''Weapon/Gear Storage:''' 1 kg. *'''Weapon Maintenance Kit:''' Weighs 1 kg. *'''Whistle:''' *'''Thrones:''' 15 *'''Approximate Total Weight Carried:''' 32 kg (additional 15 kg carried in weapon storage). Traits *'''Blessed Ignorance:''' Forbidden Lore Tests at -5 penalty. *'''Divination:''' Dark Dreams Lie Upon The Heart. Begin play with 2 Corruption Points. *'''Hagiography:''' Common Lore (Imperial Creed, Imperium & War) are Basic Skills. *'''Liturgical Familiarity:''' Literacy and Speak Language (High Gothic) are Basic Skills *'''Superior Origins:''' Willpower +3. XP *'''Spent XP:''' 1,000 *'''Total XP:''' 1,000 Rank 1: Conscript *100 Skill: Awareness. *100 Skill: Swim. *200 Talent: Jaded, Elite Advance. *100 Talent: Sound Constitution x 1. *100 Talent: Trade (Armorer), Elite Advance. *100 Talent: Weapons Training, Pistol, Solid Projectile. Rank 2: Guardsman *100 Skill: Dodge. *100 Skill: Ciphers (War Cant). *100 Talent: Quick Draw. Rank 3: Armsman Rank 4: Sergeant Rank 5: Veteran =